


And You Thought That Was Awkward?

by DarkMetropolis



Series: Accidental Sex [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Crack, Cunnilingus, Discussions of accidental sex, F/M, I don't even know anymore, Kink Meme, M/M, Sunday Lunch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMetropolis/pseuds/DarkMetropolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now with two chapters!</p><p>“Really!” Sherlock continued, glaring at his brother “My policeman?”</p><p>“He's mine now” Mycroft said clearly, not taking his eyes off the buttered potatoes, licking his lips.</p><p>Sherlock wasn’t going to be silenced.  “Your pants happened to drop at the right moment? I'm meant to believe that?  Me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John, Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg were sitting at the Holmes Manor dining table waiting for Mummy and Mr. Holmes to return with the last of the Sunday lunch.

“Really!” Sherlock continued, glaring at his brother “My policeman?”

“He's mine now” Mycroft said clearly, not taking his eyes off the buttered potatoes, licking his lips.

Sherlock wasn’t going to be silenced.  “Your pants happened to drop at the right moment? I'm meant to believe that?   _Me_?”

The elder brother sighed and finally turned his attention to his sibling.  “Before you go on, judging by the suit you wore last time I saw you, the new layers of mirth to Doctor Watson's grins and the average size of a pregnant termite I  _know_  something similar has happened to the two of you recently”

Sherlock actually pursed his lips and turned away just as Mummy’s cheerful voice rang out from the doorway closest to him.  “Oh there's no need for embarrassment, Dears, it's quite the Holmes tradition!”

Mr. Holmes joined in, slipping into the room from another entrance.  “Yes, happened to your mother and I twice!”

“Seven years apart” Mummy continued a little softer, suddenly looking thoughtful as though there was a reason she wasn't meant to mention that in front of present company.  She then went on as she moved the potatoes away from Mycroft and placed the salad there instead.  “Then there was the time it happened to your father and his boss”

“Looked a bit like you actually” he said to John as though that were a huge compliment.

“And then the time with the gardener and I” Mummy said wistfully.

“You slept with Jack?  Accidently?”

“Ah, yes. Must have been...accidently”.  No one seemed to accept that explanation.

Mr. Holmes took in the table, beaming at each guest.  “So this is Watkins?” he asked, eyeing the doctor.

“Watson, John Hamish Watson” Sherlock corrected, piling most of the potatoes onto his own plate with a smirk to Mycroft who in turn gripped his cutlery so hard his fingers turned white.  He relented when Greg silently placed a hand on his arm in support.

“I knew a  _Gerard_  Hamish Watson” the eldest man commented once they were all seated.

“That was my Grandfather’s name!” John exclaimed, with a small twist of his head.

Mr. Holmes stilled, looking as though he’d swallowed his gold fillings, then placed his knife and fork down. “He was my boss”.

For once everyone in the same room reached an identical deduction at the same time as the Holmes brothers.

“I’d rate his wife a seven” Mummy continued not sensing the atmosphere in the room or perhaps not caring, moving the breadstick away from herself before she could eat any.  “I wouldn’t get into bed with anyone less than a seven”.

Sherlock excused himself from the table in French and Mycroft pushed his plate away and left through another exit muttering something about stomach medication.  Greg and John stared at each other in horror.

“So Greg" Mummy called out "how would you rate Mycroft?  Don’t be shy, Dear.  John you’re next.  Oh, this is getting rather fun!”.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was finished with this series when flubber2kool asked for more, namely John and Greg's reactions. So I wrote them and then the chapter descended from there. For better or worse I just can't say no to pretty pleases with sugur on top!
> 
> So this is for flubber2kool (although you may not want to your name linked to it after you've read it!).

By the time John and Greg enter the sitting room that the Holmes brothers had escaped to they are in a bad way.

They’re both shaking and pale with shock, Greg teary eyed.

“Mycroft” Sherlock whispers, sounding for a moment like a lost child “I can’t read anything on them.  All I’m getting are little question marks and an ampersand which seems a bit lost but now it’s here doesn’t want to make a show of leaving”

“Remarkably I’m getting the same, Brother Dear.  If we had more time I’d boogie off to my Mind Disco but I think we should instead get them a drink”.  At this he stands then says softly “and there go our chances of getting any tonight.  And I thought I was going to be cockblocked by _you_ this trip, not our mother”

“If she didn’t I would have made a full effort to”

“I have no doubt”.

A minute later the two guests are sitting with a large scotch each which have to be refilled twice before they’ll talk.

“She-” John begins in a choked voice, then pauses to take a moment of silence for his dignity.  “She asked us to rate you, your _performances_ on a scale of one to ten”

Sherlock nods and says seriously “I assume you marked me down to a nine after the unfortunate incident with the legumes?”

Mycroft glares and lets out a sigh.  “But that is not why you two are so… _dismayed_ ”

“It was awful!” Greg explodes not able to hold it in a moment longer. 

“We were helping your parents move the dishes down to one of the kitchens-”

“-and we were hurrying along ‘cause we couldn’t take much more talk about sex with our partner’s geriatric parents-”

“-when your mother trips on a dropped bundle of 100 pound notes left in the hall and, and-”

“-your father follows, landing his face perfectly on her crotch!” 

“His arms are trapped under her thighs so he tries to lift himself with the only thing he can gain leverage with-”

“-which happens to be his tongue”

“He pushes and tries to move it every which way to try to get off-”

“-so she gets her hand down there to also try and help move his tongue away.  He manages to move it lower while she keeps her fingers there, moving, just in case he goes up again-”

“-she is squirming, trying to let him free his arms but he can’t quite seem to get there”

“But she could.  Get there I mean”

“I didn’t know women that age could squir-”

“-no!” Mycroft calls out just in time to mostly cover the last word.  “No, please.  No.  Stop.  Please”.  He’s moving a hand from his stomach to his heart, obviously not knowing which one needs the most settling.

Sherlock is uncharacteristically quiet as he slowly walks over to a desk, opens a drawer and takes out a box.  Inside the box is an old mace.  “It’s not perfect but if we-”

“-I’m not hitting you with the mace, Sherlock” Mycroft cuts in wearily.

John walks over and gently removes the weapon from his partner’s hands and places it in the drawer.  Just before he closes it he sees an old photo.  He picks it up and notices that it is with his grandfather and Mr. Holmes in an office, smiling.

“If it makes you feel any better” Sherlock begins “I used to masturbate to that picture as a teen.  It was a personal favourite”

John lowers his head then suddenly raises it, understanding blooming on his features and knocking out any other feelings he had about that statement, which was a lot.  “Is that why you insist on calling me Mr. Watson in bed?”

Sherlock blushes.  “Make a deduction”.

Greg on the other hand is openly sobbing on Mycroft’s shoulder.  “…and it, and it was _worse_ than the, than the _worst_ crime scene I’ve been to and I’ve seen _a lot_ ”.

Mycroft leans down and whispers “Why don’t we…” he says the last bit so quietly that no one else can hear.

Greg chokes back a wail “No sex, only chocolate!”

Silence rings out then “Interesting” Sherlock notes “apparently the longer people spend in my brother’s presence the more they crave sweets”

“Sherlock” Mycroft growls “I’m going to-”

* * *

As they leave the next day, the four of them are silent in the back of Mycroft’s large, luxury car.  As the vehicle pulls away from the manor Mr. and Mrs. Holmes wave their goodbyes.

“Let us never speak of what transpired here this weekend” Mycroft announces.  “I’m personally introducing a law to be passed, should be fast tracked tomorrow, which bans all Sunday roasts from UK homes.  It’s not perfect but it’s a start in wiping this from memory”.

They all nod, not having to vocalise their strong agreement.  They are ten minutes down the road when Sherlock says “So, who wants to see exactly how dirty we can get in the back here together?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently inshock!greg is premenstral!greg, who knew? I don't know how well that goes down at crime scenes.
> 
> So here is the real end of the series (for now?), thank to all who have read and to those who commented :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you have any feedback!


End file.
